Chapter 11 - All a Bear’s Fucks

The Swank Ass Bear we all know and fucking love… well, he had been busy. He looked across the basement at the storage shed in the building of his new condo and it was completely empty. The metal door swung wide open, beckoning something (anything) to step inside so it could be held tight.

You see, this is where Pooh used to keep his Fucks.

He had Fucks hanging in his closet and in the cart next to his desk that held his printer. There were even more Fucks in that third drawer down in his kitchen next to the stove (you know, the one where you keep those tong this you can never find when you're broiling meat). After Fiona had moved in, he was tight on space (because damn, that lady has some S-T-U-F-F) so all his Fucks were relegated to the storage unit in the basement.

And today, in a fit of winter rage, Pooh had loaded all of his Fucks up in his little red wagon, the one he used to pull when he used to take walks in the woods with Christina (did you miss that chapter?) Robin, with all his Fucks.

One Fuck...

Two Fucks...

He grabbed Fucks by the paw-ful and dumped them right into the little red wagon.

It took him a good three hours and about sixteen trips to the dumpsters out back, but he'd finally gotten rid of all of his Fucks.

Granted, his neighbors weren't going to be too happy when they came home to find their dumpsters full of random Fucks, but fuck them.

Pooh stood in front of his storage unit, satisfied. He took a deep, deep breath, wheeled the little red wagon into the storage unit, closed the gate, and re-attached the padlock through the nifty little holes.

“Now,” thought Pooh. “I’m gonna ask that fox to marry me. Where the hell does a bear buy a goddamned ring in this town?”